


Tempers

by hummingrightalong



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingrightalong/pseuds/hummingrightalong
Summary: Two drabbles on the lighter side of Jesus and Aaron dealing with obstacles after the accident on the bridge.





	Tempers

**Author's Note:**

> Paul and Aaron have been together for a long time and are raising Gracie.

The first thing Aaron assured his boyfriend when they had the chance to finally talk about it, a couple of weeks after the accident on the bridge, was that he wouldn’t be broken mentally after losing a limb. 

Paul found that hard to believe but had prepared himself for everything, had even had time to get over some of the initial shock and anger himself. He couldn’t do this if their positions were reversed. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud but he had. Aaron had only laughed, responding that no one could do *this* without the other man. 

Months went by, and true to his promise, Aaron had buckled down and took every chance to retrain himself at even the most basic day to day activities. There’d been some frustrations and discoveries for both men. First, there were things that Aaron would never be able to do again- Tammy Rose had been kind enough to jump in while he was still resting and take every pair of pants he owned, refitting zippers with snaps. If the couple couldn’t find a solution they were fortunate to have a friend in the community that could figure it out. 

Paul was intensely proud.

There were also a few quirks neither had discovered until the accident. 

The things that Jesus- the name he preferred most people use except the very closest to him- had done in pursuit of...well, justice? Revenge? Fear perhaps drove him to taking more than a few lives when he still wasn’t sure Aaron had woken. The men responsible were punished. 

The only shame he felt in temporarily putting aside his personal moral code was erased as soon as he opened up to his boyfriend. Another attempt at filling the silence while he changed bandages. Siddiq had been there as much as he could at first, instructing the both of them on care and recovery. Gracie, if she weren’t fussing or her needs couldn’t be met while Aaron held her, was a great distraction. 

Aaron had tears in his eyes when it was over. He’d never being the guy to hide his feelings or pretend not to have them out of manly pride. Paul waited for his boyfriend to tell him that wasn’t the way, or that wasn’t like him, but the other was always finding the perfect words to prove why they were meant to be. Even his slightly dark off-beat jokes were exactly what Paul needed. 

“I knew it smart playing tough whenever Siddiq did this- I could see the murder in your eyes.” Before the other could argue that this was serious, Aaron had continued to tell him that whatever he’d done had to be done. After all the men who’d neglected to sound those alarms had meant for someone to get hurt or killed. It may have set Paul off that his family was affected, and maybe he wouldn’t have taken any lives if it wasn’t so personal, but he would have agreed with the decision when someone else did.

“You’re perfect, stop it.” Aaron had smirked at the reply. They both knew his body count had always been higher than Jesus. “Our numbers are fairly close to even now.” 

***

Another major discovery comes along for Paul as soon as his boyfriend is able to start taking care of himself. There’s a limit to Aaron’s patience. Someone saddled with, however appropriate or not, such a divine nickname might be relieved to find out that his perfect partner had limits. For himself it would’ve come a lot sooner, if he hadn’t quit outright after waking to discover the horrific near death experience wasn’t a bad dream. He found it next to impossible to imagine life without being able to do all the incredible things he could, without the reassurance of his skills to protect himself and his growing family. 

It wasn’t a fight that wrenched that noise out of Aaron, not even the repeated defeats when the couple sparred had moved him scream or swear in frustration. 

The sound of the glass breaking, ironically, came after hearing the growl and cursing from the general area of their small immaculate kitchen. Paul had been asleep, Gracie tucked peacefully in his arms. He’s fully awake and alert at the slightest hint of danger, an instinct that comes not just from the various disciplines in martial arts he’d mastered and kept sharp since his teen years, but from surviving this many years after the infection changed the world forever.

Setting Gracie in her crib Paul calls out, “babe? You alright?”

“Hah...yeah, umm...you should see the other guy?” There’s no mistaking the sound of a man gritting his teeth, trying to cool off, even through the awkward attempt at a joke.

“I’ll be right out there to see the other guy. How are you?”

There’s a long enough pause to cause some concern, but he trusts the other man would confess immediately if he were hurt. As parents it should be understood that not taking care of yourself wasn’t fair to your partner or child.

“Fine.” Aaron responds just as Paul walks carefully into the kitchen, already scanning the floor for shards. “That’s some sturdy glass.” There’s no need to explain further, Paul can see the jar sitting on the ground right side up. The lid is still intact, and the major source of annoyance judging by the way the aggressor (hah) is glaring at it. Jagged pieces of glass are floating on the countertop and on the floor at their feet. 

“Good. So you should get out of the way and let me clean this up. You’re already missing a hand, we don’t want you losing a finger.” Aaron drops the rag he’d been using to carefully clean up and flips his boyfriend the middle finger. 

“Especially this one. I’d hate to lose this one. Maybe I’ll finish cursing our good work canning those pickles last year...outside.”

Paul dumps a few bits into the trash, a wicked grin on his face. He crosses the short distance between them and runs his tongue along the extended finger. Aaron’s eyes flutter shut when Paul sucks the digit into his mouth, hums in agreement. “Maybe you should? Or do you feel better?” 

“I’m- I’m good now. Gracie?”

“Still asleep, small miracles. Let me finish cleaning this up and wondering if there’s any shame in trying to salvage what’s still left in the jar. Looks promising and those damn things were delicious. Wish you had just woken me up instead of murdering them.” 

“Sorry, thought I had conquered *jars*.” 

He’s no detective, and he won’t give Aaron too much hell (he had come up with a way to do that himself a few times) but it was clear that he’d destroyed the jar on purpose after a lengthy struggle. Aaron had a breaking point, even a temper. He just usually let it rip on inanimate objects. Even his sarcastic remarks were often at least half self-deprecating before and after the accident. Back when they were first getting to know each other, Paul had laughed the first time he witnessed that tactic and wondered how many times it went over the head of the intended target).

“Not all foes are the same.”

***

Maybe he’d gone too far. After all the somewhat unfamiliar face of the man who’d made the comment showed only sympathy. He could just be an idiot. He might not possess any social graces, the offensive question genuinely well intentioned. The conversation had began in a friendly way, the stranger identifying himself as a former resident of Alexandria and even grateful to Aaron for the duties he’d performed in the beginning. It was always nice hearing that, especially when Paul knew that Aaron had always felt like an outsider (he didn’t mind, he liked and believed in the work but didn’t care for much social interaction beyond Eric or Deanna).

Still he couldn’t help but feel like this man he himself barely knew deserved the harsh response. He can’t get it out of his head all day, and wishes that Aaron could’ve been there to stop him. Old habits die hard, and Paul remembers the days when he had to keep from making waves. Before he could defend himself, long before good people taught him he had a right to when it wasn’t life or death. 

He caves, abandoning his duties rushing around Hilltop (they can wait and he can catch up) to stop in at home midday. He’s just convinced himself he’d waited long enough when he spots Aaron and Gracie relaxing on a blanket in the sun. “Babe?” 

“It’s the only way she’ll sleep now, apparently.” Aaron smiles, eyes barely open, their baby asleep on his chest. 

“Sorry, I know she kept you up all night…” Paul kneels down, picks their daughter up. Something stirs in him again when he watches Aaron easily push himself up until they’re sitting inches apart. He opens his eyes, leans in for a kiss. 

“It’s fine. What happened?” The little picnic lunch sitting just within reach had been prepared with the family in mind. Either Aaron is naturally good or clairvoyant, the sandwich wrapped in the brown paper package has Paul’s name on it. 

“Thanks. Something happened that had me wondering who was the asshole. I sort of need you to break the tie.” 

“It probably wasn’t you.” Aaron takes Gracie back and lets Paul nibble while he explains, rolling his eyes when his boyfriend interrupts with the declaration before hearing any of the story. “Ok, you disagree.”

“I don’t know. You know those few Alexandrians who moved here recently? One of them at least says they know you. What would you say about the older one? Just, your opinion of him.” Of course the other man takes this into serious consideration, looking up while he spends a few seconds going over who is left from his old community, who might cause a stir. 

“Older guy, really average name. Hard worker. Social enough…” Paul gestures for him to get to the point. “If I were introducing you I might warn you that he means well enough but is...hilariously offensive.” His boyfriend has heard the stories by now, doesn’t need Aaron to add that the guy is exactly the type that Aaron had long ago advised Daryl to ignore. Thinking about it, the man in question was *exactly* one of those people. “I admit I never bothered to get to know him, beyond finding him when I was still Alexandria’s scout. Wow, before Daryl even. Probably good. I remember running into him a couple times and thinking he was an ass, whether he knew it or not.”

“So, not a fan?” Aaron shakes his head, waiting for the rest of the story. “Good, I completely lost my temper and blew up on him. But now I’m sure he asked for it.” Paul winces, looking almost apologetic when he carries on. “He was asking about you. How you’d been, how *we* had been-” a heavy sigh and Paul stops trying to spare the details for the other’s feelings. “He asked me how *you* manage. In the bedroom. No joke those were his exact words.”

“I think I know what you’re getting at. You told him where to stick it, and had every right to do so because that question assumes just as much about you as it does about me, I hope?”

“What I told him was that, since he was asking, I trust Aaron to take care of himself and our child. Specifically, ‘Aaron cooks, cleans, changes diapers and can *take a piss by himself* so he has no problem *fucking* me’. In case that wasn’t enough to satisfy his curiosity, I told him that 75% of me getting fucked I can handle myself but he ought to give it a try.” Paul rushes through the story, obviously still angry and sadly still frustrated after spending hours wondering if he was justified in his feelings.

“Perfect. And hilarious. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Like I said, it’s more an insult to you if not generally insensitive to any gay couple. Wish that shit had died with the old world but it didn’t.” Aaron looks at their sleeping infant, and his boyfriend realizes he’s about to say something he wouldn’t want her to pick up on, as if she could at this age. “I bet he assumed from looking at us that, obviously, I’m on top. And then I lost an arm and he was all…” Aaron pulls a perfectly exaggerated expression of confusion. “How...does that work now? Be offended. Hell, you went light on him. Not trying to fuel the flames here but that is *exactly* the kind of well meaning but small minded person that dared ask Eric or myself ‘how it worked’ and meant ‘which way does it work in the bedroom?’.”

Paul groans. He always knew that his preference for taller guys (as if he could help it) allowed the closed minded even within the community, to make assumptions about him. In spite of his preferences in bed it was still shitty to put anyone in a little box like that. To further assume, as people usually did, that this made him ‘weak’ or ‘feminine’. As if there was anything wrong with being a girl. And there he went, further enraged on account of his best friends, both women, and his little girl. “I’m not done with him.”

“If he asks any more insulting questions of course?” Aaron knew Paul better than to worry that he’d hunt some guy down, especially a new neighbor, but these days he was full of surprises. 

“Right. I’ll try to remind myself to just avoid him like you suggested. This is why I preferred to be out than in-” An ‘oh shit’ look crosses his features. 

“I can and will be up to that as soon as you let me graduate from Jesus’ self defense class. You’re tough.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were goading me into a sparring session to keep me from verbally destroying a neighbor.”

“Trust me. If I’m trying to trick you into an extra class, I’m being totally selfish.”

“Let’s go. Maggie can watch her for a few.”


End file.
